Now my heartbeat is even more erratic.
“Hey,” I answer. My teeth dig into my bottom lip as I gaze out at the sparkling lake in front of me.
“What’s wrong? Did something break?”
“Huh?”
“I got your message… that you need to talk to me. Please tell me I didn’t royally screw up something in the renovations. I knew working quickly might cause a problem, but I’m pretty sure I was thorough in all my repairs…”
“No, no it’s not the house.” My throat tightens. Max thought I was calling about the house, not about him. About us. About the spark of something between us that I really hope we can explore further. Maybe I should just let it go. Tell him never mind and end the call and go back to my life as a single woman, happy or not.
“Ah, so you missed me.” I can hear his smile through the phone.
I roll my eyes. “You wish.”
“Well if it’s not the house and you didn’t miss me, then what is it?”
Dang. I exhale loudly. “I guess maybe it’s one of the two.”
“Where are you?”
“Sterling Park, by the shore and the blue picnic tables.”
“Don’t go anywhere,” he says. Then he hangs up.
Twenty minutes pass with me standing here, milling about, checking my phone and wondering if I’ve been weirdly set up. Then I spot Max walking up the shore toward me.
All the anxious butterflies in my stomach metaphorically wake up and fly around, making me even more nervous. I’m prepared for awkward silences and discomfort—we didn’t exactly leave things happy and fun the last time we spoke. As he nears, he smiles. His stubble has grown out longer than I’ve seen before and he looks rugged, sexy, and absolutely delicious. He’s tanner, too, I think, which has made his hair a little more blond.
I smile back, giving him a little wave. I’m not sure what to say? Oh gosh, what do I say?
Nothing, as it turns out.
Max’s lips are on mine before I can utter a word. I breathe him in, feel his strong, calloused hands slip around my waist and pull me to him with an almost painful ferocity. I tangle my hands in his hair. My toes lift out of the sand.
I’m breathless, caught up in this moment, in this kiss, which is somehow even better than the first one we shared on my back porch. Maybe because this time it’s not just a one-time spontaneous thing. This time it’s real.
This time it’s permanent.
When our lips break apart, Max’s forehead presses to mine. His grin lights up my vision, his breath fresh and minty. “Hi,” he breathes.
“Hi,” I say back.
“I’m glad you called.”
“I’m glad you kissed me.”
He laughs, lowering me back to the sand but keeping his arms around me.
“You’re all I’ve thought about, Julie. Every single day. No matter what I’m doing, or how busy I am with work, it’s just you. My brain thinks of only you.”
“But why?” I ask, reality sinking back in now that there’s a few inches of space between us and I can think better. “Is this infatuation or...something real?”
“I don’t do infatuation,” he says, reaching up and taking my hands in his. “I’ve been in this small town my entire life. I’ve never connected with anyone like I connected with you. I don’t want to lose that. I don’t want to lose you. What I feel for you is as real as anything.”
I may not be a private investigator myself, but everything in his voice, his expression, and his eyes tells me he’s being truthful. That he’s not just filling his time with me until someone better comes along. Can I do that, too? Can I allow myself to trust him, to trust in us, and find happiness again?
Or will I always be worried that something bad is lurking around the corner?
